On Our Final Night
by Halogirl3000
Summary: With the defeat of Jadis behind them, the Pevensies drive forward to create a new Narnia. However when danger threatens to strike, Aslan calls upon an old power to help. But with strange ways and odd allies will the High King accept this aid. PeterxOc
1. Prologue

**Summary: **With the defeat of the White Witch behind them, the four Pevensie's drive forward to create a peaceful Narnia. But soon a new evil arises and threatens the very nation they are trying to protect. Aslan's only option is to reawaken an old power to help defend Narnia. A strange new beauty is brought forth to help, but with curious ways and odd allies will the High King accept her help, and what might he find along the way? A Chronicles of Narnia Story (PeterxOc)

**Ramblings of an Author: **I've been wanting to write a Chronicles of Narnia story for a while now, and only just now got the inspiration to actually write it out. This story will be staged only a few years after the Pevensie's got to Narnia and became the rulers, roughly two to three years after. I've read the books, but I will be ignoring them for my own purpose's(mostly because I fear the wrath of C.S. Lewis if I mess and screw his version over). If I get some thing wrong, like a name or past reference, please alert me to this. I can not be perfect, no matter how hard I try, so a bit of help from the readers would be much appreciated. I will not tolerate flames. That is my only warning, if you send them to me, I will only laugh at them before deleting them. Constructive criticism will be greatly welcomed, I always want to know what I could do better to improve the story and my writing. Lastly, this will be a Peter Pevensie love story. My original character will end up with him. If you do not like this arrangement, GET OUT!

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, if I did, why would I bother to write a fanfiction when I could be out buying whole islands with my riches.

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On Our Final Night

By: Halogirl3000

Narnia's forest's were a thing to be admired. The tree's were a beautiful green that could not be rivaled by even the most talented gardener. Each flower gave off a luminous glow in their respective colors, in so many that would make your head spin. There was a harmonious balance between each of the common fauna, one that could not be replicated in any other nation. Viewers say that it's the aura of Narnia itself that makes everything in the nation seem alive and magical, from even the most common blade of grass, to the large towering tree's that form a barrier to protect the inhabitants of the nation.

Magic. In any other country the idea would seem ludicrous. If mentioned you would only receive a sharp bark of laughter for your troubles. But that was not the case when concerning Narnia. One could not visit the place and deny the existence of magic. It's in the air, in every single breath you take, you feel it there beside you. With one glance of the inhabitants you overcome every argument made against the idea of it not being there. With talking animals, dwarfs, tree spirits, fauns, centaur's , mermaids, giants, and many other creatures the nation is the very definition of magic.

But all paled in comparison to the the protector of the nation. His very name made shivers run down people's spines, whether in fear or warmth, there was no one who could deny this being its respect. There was no one that brave nor foolish.

Aslan. The Great Cat. King of the Beasts. Son of The-Emperor-Over-The-Sea. He has many names, but none of them can accurately describe him. He was Narnia's king and protector. Few were fortunate enough to see more than a glimpse of this godly figure. Though he was always there, watching, and protecting those belonging to his domain. He was caped in gold. Stood proud and strong and never weakened. His wisdom was unrivaled, and his kindness unmatched. He was fierce, a warrior envied by the most well known of knights from any land. Few could stand in his presence and not feel their knees knocking in either awe or fright. He was courageous. He has stood before many enemies, and never once retreated to save his own life. Though he would give it to save another, and has done that very thing. He would never fail those he has promised to watch over. He was a lion, in heart and body.

Aslan had fought in many battles, but the most recent had lasted a century long. Locked in combat with an evil foe of unimaginable powers, he had proven himself time and time again. For 100 years his lands were plagued with the harsh bitterness of an unyielding winter. The creation and cause the responsibility of one person. Jadis, the White Witch.

A fierce woman from the dimension of Charn, she was strong and powerful. With her magic abilities she was even able to subdue Aslan for one hundred years while her control over Narnia flourished into an unquestioned dictatorship. Through events predetermined she gained immortality and her magic grew ever the more frightening until Narnia's only hope was in the arrival of four children from another world.

It had long been prophesied that the four children would come to save Narnia from the Witch's wrath. Four of them, each to represent a different virtue and part of Narnia. There was the Magnificent, the High King who would rule over Narnia with fairness and truth. The Just, also a king who would look for the justice in any situation, for he knew the dark side well, and the temptations that came with it. There was the Gentle. The oldest Queen and second oldest sibling in the bunch. She could be harsh and stern when needed, but her kindness was a sight to be seen for those who deserved it. Valiant would be the last of the virtues represented. And the youngest royal was as such. Truly a brave child, that would stand for what was right, even against the disbelief of those around her. The four would stand united, to protect the country they had been called to rule. And protect it they did.

Their arrival weakened the White Witch's hold on Narnia. Spring arrived for the first time in one hundred year because of the hope they had brought the inhabitants of Narnia. But the Witch was not one to take defeat laying down. She fought. Fought for the country she thought rightfully belonged to her. With an army of horrible creatures behind her, she waged war against the true heirs to the Narnian throne.

There was but one battle. One battle to determine the fate of the mystical land of Narnia. Creatures and spirits clashed against one another in the fight, each determined to win for their side. The battle was fierce and bloody. Many lives were given in the pursuit of freedom. But in the end the four children from another world reigned victorious, and the White Witch, defeated.

And Narnia's animal King returned from the dead for the finishing blow. Aslan had died to protect one of the children that would rule his country. As a sacrifice to protect another, he gave himself as retribution for the sins of betrayal. He died, upon a stone tablet by the White's hand. Abused beforehand by her army, and humiliated by the cutting of his glorious mane. By the ancient magic that rules all of Narnia he was born again, as is the reward for giving himself in another's place. He arrived at the battle with numerous warriors, all turned to stone by the Witches magic, all of which were ready to aid the army so that victory was assured. With one leap, he pounced on the White Witch, and ended her life. And the war was over.

Not long after, a celebration was held at the esteemed Cair Paravel, a castle unmatched in beauty and skillful design. It was there that the four children were crowned and given their titles that they would hold for the day they die, and after. Aslan presented them to the inhabitants of Narnia, calling their names and giving them their virtues that had been made clear in the battle. Then he left them to rule. He put his faith and trust in their abilities to work together to protect the nation, just as he would.

It had been a few years since the new age had begun, and Aslan had not been seen since. Not that he was expected to. He was not a tamed lion after all, and he had his own businness to attend to. But that did not mean he was not missed. Expecially by the royals themselves. However they did not discourage, knowing that he would never be far from those he cherishes and considers family.

And now the lion was walking through one of the forests of Narnia. Alone, as he usually was, he walked forward, each movement as graceful and dignified as was expected from a king of his stature. The tree canopies covered the ground in shade, except for the small patches of brilliant sunlight that would glisten through the leaves at whatever chance it was given. Natural trails ran through these woods with ease. Dirt paths that looked neatly kept, yet untouched by any one before. A small breeze would play across the air, rustling leaves in nature's sweet serenade.

Alsan noted all of this as he continued on with his travel, to this pristine place that had never been seen by anyone else's eyes but his own. It was a place that defied time and space, never changing and forever as it first was. There was something precious locked away there. A secret that had become a legend. A mystery that remained as such to the world.

The area was deserted. No one lived within a mile of the space. There was some force that repelled all except for the golden king. A sense of wonder so strong it was eerie. Chills entrapped the spines of those foolish enough to enter without permission. The place was untouchable, almost holy.

Alsan knew all there was to know about every bit of Narnia. Every upturned rock, turning leaf, and gushing brook he had seen and watched and knew by heart. This place was no different. Each step he took had been taken previously, as he had been to this place many a time. Watching and waiting for the moment that he could reawaken this place from it's eternal slumber. He had waited many years, more than most would have realized, to see this place move from it's forever still moment in time.

That time was now.

Aslan did not know whether to be joyous or saddened at this revelation. The day he had awaited so long was now upon him, and he couldn't help but wish it to be a different day. It disheartened him. Really it did. He had waited so very long for this, and now he was discouraged at its arrival. He felt like he was betraying something. He knew he should be happy. Happy, for this place would stop being still, it would flourish and grow as it hadn't for more than a hundred years. Yet the sadness clung determinedly at his heart. He may be happy that this was finally happening, by the reason why would never lighten his heart.

But he pressed forward, thinking only of the goodness that would come from his actions of today. Never looking back and not thinking about what else accompanied this day as an opposition to it's mirthful happenings. For thats what this was. Trading a merry moment for a burdonous future. But Alsan would endure, if only for _her_ sake.

To absorbed in his thoughts Aslan never noticed that he had arrived at his destination until he stepped into it. His golden eyes looked around at the wondrous place, taking in the beauty of it for what must be the hundredth time. For that's what it truly was. Beautiful.

A crystal lake stood in the middle of the greenest and softest field of grass and flowers ever assembled in one place. The water simmered with it's clear shine and bright sparkled surface. A light breeze ruffled the grass into a swaying motion, so soft that it seemed to merely be guiding the blades through a slow dance. Tree's stood tall and strong around the field, protecting the place from the outside threats of the world beyond. They were the barrier that kept out the dangerous and unwanted from this place. To keep _it_ safe.

Taking light steps forward, Aslan allowed a small smile to fall across his face as he once again returned to this place. It was a peaceful and calm place. Where one forgot the worries of the outside world and could not help but be consumed with the delicate perfume of the flowers, and the melody of the Sapphire waters smooth motions. His eyes fell upon the rocky cavern on the other side of the lake. It's rough edges and rocky terrain doing nothing to deteriorate the beauty that this place had.

'It gives it more character.', Aslan mused to himself as he looked upon the final resting place of the treasure he was looking for. He arrived at the edge of the lake, watching and waiting, as he always did. Slowly bubbles rose form the great lake, in a line that stretched from one side to the other, disturbing the calm illusion of a glass surface it once held. The bubbles increased in size and number as they popped, only to be replaced by more.

Taking one step forward Aslan stepped on the bubbling surface. A solid figure appeared beneath his paw, a large, flat rock that held up this godly figure with ease. Soon more rocks appeared in the trail of bubbles that bridged out before him to the opening on the other side of the lake. In very long strides and a few leaps Alsan found himself at the opening of the cave, looking into it's back abyss with decisive eyes.

With one deep breath he ventured forward. Once inside he could see nothing except black. He could hear the ringing of water, dropping from the spiked rocks on the ceiling into small pools of water that had collected below them. He could smell the damp air, and taste the dankness of the cave. Though his eyes proved useless to him he never paused or hesitated in a step. Knowing that straight was the truest way, he remained on it. Till he saw a small white light in front of him.

Aslan felt anticipation stir within him. It was almost time. In a few measly moments the treasure would be awakened to continue on its duty from where it left off.

He arrived at the light in mere seconds, looking around the ending of the cave with excitement and delight. His eyes strayed to the soul inhabitant of the room. A raised coffin lay in the middle of the room. It's pure white exterior radiated the same beauty and light as the day it had been made. No matter the amount of time it spent in this cavern. A light blue tarp lay over the coffin. A symbol long forgotten etched into it's silken surface. Flowers of the palest and lightest colors were scattered on the floor surrounding the casket.

Aslans next steps were slow and steady as he approached the coffin. Taking the cloth between his sharp fangs he tugged at it until it fell to the floor in a bundled mess. His snout pressed against the hood, pushing it off to the side. Ignoring the small crash that resulted from his actions, he looked into the casket for the first time in over on hundred years. A large smile spread across his face as he spoke in a soft tone.

"Awaken, daughter of the night. Your duty is not yet finished. You must raise your blades once more and stand against that which will tear you down. Narnia is in need of your skills. Awaken! It is time!"

Emerald orbs opened for the first time in one hundred years in response to his words.


	2. Strange Beginings

**Ramblings of an Author:**Well, it took me four months(which admittedly for me is pretty fast, jk!), but I got it done. The first real chapter of _On Our Final Night_ is finished. So, I'll let you get right on into the story, then ramble more at the end. Enjoy!

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**On Our Final Night**

By: Halogirl3000

"Edmund Pevensie!" The call rang through the hall. The boy in question cringed at the harsh tone that was used.

He was undenieably busted.

"Oh come now, Susan!" Edmund found himself almost whining in reply. "They are not due for another hour! Why can't I go out for a short ride?" His elder sister replied with a huff.

Susan the Gentle, was only gentle about half the time. The other half, most of which was spent with her brothers(making her anger understandable and acceptable), she was found to be the stern mother hen of the siblings. She was a beauty, new songs and ballads were found each day dedicated to the Queen, with long dark brown hair that was always found in some elaborate style that made her seem all the more dignified. A fair complection made her face one to remember, giving off a radiant glow that remained in the minds of men from every country. Today the strands that fell right around her face were pulled back into a curled half pony. Her deep chocolate brown eyes were set in a determined glare. The young king held no chance at escape.

"We don't need you all dirty and smelly when the nobles of Archenland get here. That is no way for a king to behave." Susan's fierce tone explained. Edmund lowered his head in defeat, knowing he would get no where when she acted like this. A giggle from the side lines diverted the two's thoughts as they both looked over to see the youngest of the four royals laughing mirthfully at their discussion.

"Yes Ed," Lucy snickered, showing off her brilliant smile as she walked towards her two squabbling siblings. "We don't need you all smelly when the Duke and Duchess get here." Lucy Pevensiewas perhaps the cutest little girl you would ever look at. A kind and brave heart gave little doubt about the virtue she had been assigned. With short, dark brown hair, almost red, she was a dear little thing. It was rare for her face to not possess a smile that would brighten any room, and when it was lost you would find a face made out of pure determination.

Edmund's look of defeat went to a down right pout. "Not you too." He muttered quietly. Perhaps when he had first come to Narnia he would have stomped his foot in a small tantrum, but whether he displayed it or not he had matured over the years. He now stood as tall as Susan, his scrawny build had been replaced with slight muscle mass, which accompanied his skills with a sword as well. His dark brown hair still hung around his head in a slightly messy style, yet it looked more purposeful and actually quite handsome for his feature. He looked older then when he had first stepped into Narnia. Though a child he still was.

"See Edmund," Susan continued, pointedly ignoring the mocking glare he send her way."Even Lucy agrees with me. We are royals, and will show courtesy and hospitality to everyone. No matter who it is." This lecture was well rehearsed, and had seen the battle fronts many times before, but the reaction would forever be the same.

"Tell that to Peter." Edmund's statement was met with a swift glare from his elder sister, but even the gentle queen had to submit to the facts. And Edmund had just mentioned perhaps the most irritating one in her book.

All three let out sighs of annoyance, Susan's being the loudest. Edmund's relayed the pity he felt for his elder brother. For truly, he was doomed. Susan was very annoyed at his reluctance to just accept the reality of the situation and deal with it accordingly. Lucy, . . . well she giggled. As usual.

"Tell what to Peter?" A new voice entered the conversation. All three Pevensie's looked to the end of the hall to see the subject of their discussion looking at them with a perplexed expression on his features. Edmund was not the only one who had changed in Narnia. Peter, the High King, was now a strongly build man. His skills with a sword unmatched, even by his brother, had given him the build of a warrior. His golden hair gleamed in the sunlight it caught through he windows of the open hallway. He had gotten taller, now being more than a few inches taller then Susan, and having to bend his head slightly to look her in the eyes. His blue eyes no longer held the inexperience and naiveness that had started out there. Now they were deep and looked at the world with a mysterious and powerful gaze. They still held a kindness and compassion that could not be rivaled, but he would never be easily deceived while his eyes caught every movement that any person would ever make. He held himself with the confidence of a king, and radiated strength and valor with every step.

"Peter!" Lucy's delighted shout brought a smile to the High Kings face as she ran towards him. With a grin he caught her with open arms and brought her feet off the ground with one easy motion.

"Hello Lucy." Peter said as he grinned down at his smallest sister as she hugged him around his neck, then turned his gaze to his remaining siblings. "Susan, Edmund." He sent small smiles towards them as well.

"Nice of you to finally join us Peter." Susan's clipped tone sent chills down everyone else's spines. Peter let out a nervous laugh as he set Lucy on her feet.

"Sorry Susan. I was working with Orieus on some details to the guard regiments. I didn't realize it would take so long." Peter explained as he send and apologetic smile her way. She let out a sigh before giving up the matter, knowing that some things she could not control. Like kings and their generals.

"As long as you didn't forget that the guests from Archenland are coming today, it doesn't matter." Susan replied in assured tone, knowing that her brother would never be foolish enough to forget something like that. She set her gaze out one of the windows in the hall, seeing the sunlight cascade on the sea waters below. It was a beautiful day.

A muffled snort caught her attention, and her gaze turned back to her younger brother. Seeing him try to smother his giggles she looked at her elder brother with an alarmed look.

Peter was caught in the middle of a grimace.

"Peter!" Suans yelled out in shock. "You surely didn't actually forget!" Susan thought she was going to faint, the idea too overwhelming to bear.

"Never." Peter replied, his face still somewhere between panicked and alarmed. "I was just simply caught unaware for a moment. But now I remember. I remember perfectly." He finished his sentence with a dreadfully dejected tone. Peter let out an aggravated sigh as his hand ran through his hair. A habit he had accumulated from the stress of his duties as king. Edmund, of course, caught the discomfort from his brother straight away.

"Your worried about the duchess's daughter, aren't you?" Edmund said as he stepped closer to his brother. Peter, sent a small smile his way, realizing like he did every day how perceptive his younger brother truly was.

"She's not the most subtle of women." Peter responded with another sigh. Lucy walked to her brothers side and patted his arm in reassurance.

"I don't like her much either." Lucy's innocent statement received a smile from her brother at her attempt to comfort.

"Lady Margret isn't that bad. She's kind and is a very elegant woman." Susan defended. Edmund let out a very un-kingly snort at the remark.

"I don't know Susan." Edmund commented with a thoughtful look, one of his hands on his chin in speculation. "She's not very bright."

With a sigh Susan shook her head at her two brothers. "Both of you will regard Lady Margret with respect and act like gentlemen. I don't care what she does, you will be chivalry itself!" With a huff she looked at her two distraught brother. "Besides, her father is coming as well."

Peter let out a groan, and felt like banging his head against a wall. It couldn't have been more painful then the situation he was soon to be in. Edmund shook his head in sympathy for his brother, even if he was acting pitiful. "Come on Peter. She's very pretty. Actually more than that. She's gorgeous. You lucky dog!" Edmund finished with a smile. Peter shot a glare at his brothers 'supportive' remark.

"Then you should start to court her, dear brother." Peter replied, his tone tight and stiff. "Get her and her father off my back."

Edmund let out a 'tsk', and wagged his finger in his brothers direction. "It's not me she's interested in."

Susan let out an enraged shout. "You two are horrible! Peter," She rounded on her brother. "Just endure it. They're only staying for a week. Surely you can manage spending that much time with her." Sending her elder brother one last glare, she turned to her remaning brother. "And you Edmund, will stop making jokes about her. We are royalty. We should start acting like it!" With that said, Susan turned with the grace and anger she was known for, and left the hall.

It took three seconds after she left eye sight for the remaining siblings to burst into uncontrollable laughter and fall to the ground.

* * *

"Lord Richard! Welcome to Cair Paravel. You arrival has been long overdue." The High King Peter's voice rang through the open grounds surrounding Narnia's prized castle. Peter and his siblings were standing at the top of the castles stair case, awaiting their guests.

From the giant gates that separated Cair Paravel from the outside fields and woods a group of horsemen and centaurs entered the courtyards that surrounded the fortress. The yards occupants all looked at the arriving party, waiting anxiously to see who had paid Narnia a visit. The company ignored the multitude of eyes that had fixed their gaze on it, and walked forward to stand before the rulers of the land.

A hearty laugh sounded through the air from the middle of the party of riders that had just entered the courtyard. A human man swung himself off his horse with practiced ease, and gave a bright smile up to the four monarchs that returned the gesture.

"Why Peter! You sly thing, you. You warned me that Narnia was beautiful, but your words did not do this place justice!" The Duke joked as he walked up the stairs to his hosts. He was human, of course, with an easy going and fun loving attitude that was rare for someone of his age, and social status. Rusty red hair poked out from beneath his green, medieval style cap. His rich forest green clothing puffed and infalted in all the right spots(shoulders, wrists, knees?), and his brown leather boots clapped slightly against the marble of the stepping stairs as he walked up them. He was a typical royal, slightly meaty from his large numbers of banquets, yet stayed fit with his habits and travels. His face was spread out into a grin, one that seemed to be permanently etched on his face. His brown eyes were lit with his satisfaction of finally reaching his destination.

A laugh escaped the High Kings control as he looked at his visitor with a boyish grin. "Yes, I'm sorry about that Richard. I'm afraid I don't have much talent with words. But I'm happy you were pleasantly surprised." Lord Richard let out another howl of laughter as he turned his attention to the other Pevensies.

"Queen Susn," Taking her offered hand the Lord bowed slightly. "You look as beautiful as all the hopeful suitors expect. I am honored to be invited to your estate."

Susan let a small smile cross her face. She already personally knew the Duke, and found there was always a joyful atmosphere surrounding him. "We are happy to have you Lord Richard." She assured. Richard smiled back, and looked over to Edmund, who smirked in return.

"Edmund," The Duke sent the teen a smirk of his own. "Up to any trouble are we?"

Edmund chuckled slightly, then looked the Duke in the eyes as he responded. "No sir, I have been much to busy to do anything of late." Edmund gave himself a silent pat on the back as he realized his skills in acting innocent had been improving. With luck, the Duke himself may even be fooled.

Unfortunately the Duke raised in eyebrow in skepticism, and Edmunds hopes were washed away into the wind. "Right." The Duke replied, obviously not believeing the boy at all, but the small smile he send Edmund told him it was a good try. "Just don't be getting caught by your sister. As much as I like her, she's pretty stiff with this sort of thing." The Duke whispered to the boy, moving on the the smallest Pevensie. Edmund let out a grin as the Duke walked away, knowing that the he could not resist a good prank, being a slight troublemaker himself as a child.

"And dear Lucy." The Duke said, perhaps wearing his most brilliant smile yet. "I see you are growing into a beautiful young lady. Just like I always said you would!" Lucy giggled in response, sending the man a bright, inncocent smile.

"You did say that often. But I think I'm a few years away from being as pretty as Susan and your wife!" Lucy said, bringing smiles to every face that was in hearing range. Richard leaned back, and released a nervous chuckle.

"Speaking of wives, it seems I forgot mine on my way up here. Excuse me, and please pretend not to hear the yells that I'm almost positive will come shortly." Richard said as he turned away from the four young rulers. He made his way down the stair case, oddly resembling a man on death row, Peter couldn't help but note with a grin. Lady Victoria, Richard's wife, had by this time dismounted her traveling horse, and was watching her husband descend towards her with a critical eye.

As the Duke reunited with his (for a short while) ditched companions, Oreius took his turn and stepped forward, bowing deeply towards his monarchs. "Oreius, please," Peter asked, smiling lightly towards his friend. "You know by now that I don't require you to bow." The High King could not keep the respect he had for this devoted soldier from his words. Oreius had been a dear friend since the beginning of the Pevensie's rule. His experience and wisdom had quickly become a grateful asset to the royal four as they began their rule era. He had been beside the four since the Battle of the White White, where his life had been risked in an attempt to end her own. He had charged the cruel woman in a determined fashion, along with a brave rhino that did not survive the confrontation with the opposing army. Oreius had been turned to stone, and in most cases that would have been the end of the centaur, but Aslan had returned and walked through the scar-ridden battle field, removing the Witch's spell from the courageous warriors who had fought for Narnia's freedom. Since that day, the General had been a valued friend and adviser.

Oreius released a small chuckle at the familiar words from his king. "I have heard the words often, my King, yet I feel I am no closer to following them then the first time they were spoken. You will have to forgive my defiance." Oreius sent the young ruler a small grin, one that was full of a kinship the centaur would not have imagined himself to feel for the boy before the White Witch's fall from power.

"Well then, if I can not persuade you to change your ways, I suppose I should just let it go." Peter could not help but release an amused, yet completely genuine sigh.

"Peter," Susan spoke softly from the side. Oreius gave a slight bow to her as well, recognizing her presence for the first time since he arrived. Susan sent the officer an honest smile, reserving him the right to a true one, instead of the forged, well- placed one that held a position in most political confrontations. "We're going to go down to the courtyard and give a proper greeting to Lord Richard's family," She said as she made a quick and well hidden nod to the two youngest Pevensie's, indicating she implied them in this gathering. "I'm sure that if you continue to talk to Orieus, the guests will forsake your absence for a few moments. But I do expect you to be a man and come down in a few moments. Lady Margret will be expecting you." Susan's face held an uncharacteristically cruel grin upon it, sending chills down her brothers spine, ones that entrapped him in a cold pit of fright.

_'Funny how I never noticed her resemblance to Jadis until just now.'_Peter thought as he nodded quickly in agreement. Anything to get her away from him before she noticed the affect of her cold stare. With a swift nod of approval, the Gentle Queen murmured to Edmund and Lucy, and after a few moments the three made their way down the grand staircase, ready to approach and charm their visitors.

Shaking his head to release it from further contemplation on his sister behavior, he turned back to Oreius, grinning slightly as he realized that Susan had had the same effect on the seasoned warrior. "I assume the ride from the harbour was without incident." Peter questioned, his small grin eclipsed by his king-like seriousness. The arrival of the Duke's family was indeed a treat, for the Pevensie's did enjoy sharing their country with those from outside Narnia's borders, but there was an underlying risk of the family's safety that had to be addressed. For even the wondrous Narnia, was not beyond having thief's and highwaymen that would turn an interested eye to a rich caravan that was found traveling through forests and deserted roads. If such an occurrence were to happen, not only would there be a personal guilt that would have found its way to Peter's shoulders, but the international incident that would have resulted wouldn't have had any favorable endings.

Oreius returned the inquisition with earnest nod. "Yes, my King. There was minor trouble with Lady Margret's packages, but it was quickly handled." Peter let out a tired sigh, it only took the woman's name to give him a distasteful inkling about the rest of the day. The knowledge that he would be forced in her company for the next two weeks by a pushy sister and over zealous father only made his mood sink farther.

"Trouble?" It was his duty as High King to oversee and make certain that everything for Richard's family was provided and accounted for. Even the smallest mishap, regardless of subject, would not be tolerated. "Let me take a wild guess," Peter sad, a slight note of disdain tinting his words. "Too many packages to make it in one trip?"

Oreius silently looked upon his anxious king. He noted the man- no boy, for that was what Peter truly was, no matter that Peter acted like an adult, he was still young in years, and had many more to live out his life- rack a hand through his blonde tresses in aggravation. Oreius could only imagine the daily stresses that came with such an authoritative role. Hours a day spend to royal conduct and important discussions and papers. The centaur held back a shudder of disgust. He preferred a sword to writing up a treaty any day . "Yes," He admitted, lowering his head and avoiding the King's steely blue ones. "We have arranged for a second caravan to bring them here from the port. It should arrive sometime later tonight."

Peter nodded, and gave his general a small smile, feeling gratified at having such a capable person to take control once and awhile.

"Well then," Peter said as he prepared himself for the worst. "If I put it off any longer, I fear Susan's wrath if I keep our guest waiting any longer." With one last, almost pleaful glance at his friend, Peter started the seeming longer it it should have been walk to the courtyard of Cair Paraval. Feeling his stomach slowly turn to lead with every step.

His presence was noticed immediately, first, was by a vengeful sister. Susan gave him a small, hardly noticeable glare, one that promised a long lecture in his future. _'Bring it on,_" He couldn't help but grin. _'After this, I'll be ready for anything.' _Edmund and Lucy noticed him shortly after, each sending an encouraging smile that Peter couldn't deny helped a bit. Lord Richard sent him a grin, for a completely different reason, but it seemed to brighten the air, regardless of its intentions.

"Lady Victoria," Peter managed, smiling slightly at the woman. The Duchess curtsied to the High King, spreading her dark purple and silver dress out at the thighs in the appropriate gesture. She was an older, yet still strikingly beautiful woman. Grace and fairness were reflected with every small move the woman made. Her blonde hair was hidden beneath a large head garment, one that matched with her dress in hues and tones seamlessly. Bright blue eyes looked up at the King, speaking eulogies with their clear precisionin one glance. She had a fair, slightly tanned completion. Wide cheekbones looked befitting on her face, while dainty pink lips stretched in a small smile that was both kind and gentle in nature. She was a soft-spoken woman, but Peter could not help but feel that when she did speak, it was to be paid attention.

"High King Peter, thank you for welcoming us to your palace. We are humbled." Victoria stated in a clear tone, returning from her curtsy.

"It was no trouble, my lady. We are delighted to have you here." Peter replied, his voice soft and his eyes pleasant. But it was not to last.

"High King Peter." Peter nearly screamed in exasperation at the voice. Only his numerous talks and discussions with angry and harebrained rulers allowed him to mask the unhappiness that he felt at the moment. For not a second after his title and name were spoken, the bane of his existence for the next two weeks walked forward, drawing all eyes to her.

Lady Margret was indeed just that. Your typical, everyday, lady of the times. Her inherited blonde hair cascaded down her back, in long strands that seemed to catch the sunlight and hold it captive at every small gesture the woman made. Thin arms grasped her dress in fluent and practiced moves as she lowered herself to a low genuflect, showing off her amble breasts in her low cut dress. Her sun tanned skin looked wondrous and radiant in the blazing noon sun. A well fitting light pink dress that seemed to be sculpted to her form displayed the small curves of her small body, trailing down her chest and abdomen in a show of fabric as it widened at the hips, before flowing down her legs, and ending to show a pair of matching pink slippers.

'_And so it begins.'_Peter swallowed nervously at the open display of coquestness that this woman displayed so freely. "Lady Margret," He choked out. "What an honor to have you." It took a moment of Susan's glares to push him into the next move. Slowly he reached for her hand. He noticed its smoothness the moment they made contact, and unconsciously compared it to his calloused, battle scared pair. The notion only drew the impression of naiveness closer to the young maiden. He quickly pressed his lips to the back of her hand, and withdrew at the earliest acceptable moment.

"The honor is mine, my lord," Margret's high and feathery voice responded. Returning to her full height, she gave the High King one last smile, before returning to her mothers side.

The temptation to return to the comfort and seclusion of his royal office had never been greater. The though of spending more than a few moments within the company of the young Lady Margret brought a great and avenging migraine to the forefront of Peters head. He couldn't help but revisit their first meeting. A royal conference had called Peter away to Archeland, where the chance encounter took place, the subject of which he could not remember. It had been in the middle of the day, he recalled. The meeting with the rulers of Archenland had been paused until the next morning, and all delegates were walking from the room when a small party of young women had walked by, giggling bashfully as they passed across the hall. With a grimace Peter remembered that Lady Margret had indeed caught his eye for a moment, her beauty had attracted his attention in the earlier moments of their encounters. Quickly however, her gorgeous looks dwindled to little importance. Lord Richard had been the cause of their first formal introduction. He had brought his daughter to the building that housed the meetings and once the meetings were over, practically dragged the High King over to were his daughter was residing for the hour. There was no tension at first. The two had made small talk for a short amount of time, before being pulled apart to attend to different duties.

It was the second meeting that Peter started to notice how much he disliked the woman. A ball had been held in honor of the eldest Pevensie coming to Archenland, and she had attended. Surrounded by gossiping woman and their courtiers, Peter had been expected to dance with whoever was brave enough to ask. And Archenland did not seem to hold very weak-minded woman at the time. Margret had approached him after a particularly dreadful number with an older lady of the court. At first, he was completely relieved to find Margret in his hands, anything was better then the loud woman that seemed to have had too much wine. But relief quickly turned into disappointment as they began to talk. Unlike before, where their topic had been a guarded discussion, Margret took the opportunity to inform Peter of the inter working and scandals of the Archenland nobles. Disappointment had quickly turned into irritation, and then advanced to annoyance in general.

It wasn't necessarily that Margret was a bad woman. Peter could just not find it in him to care about any of the topics she brought into discussion. All she spoke of was the latest prattle around the courts, and her conquests over in a dress shop. To be honest, Peter just wasn't interested.

A fact Margret seemed unable to grasp.

"Well," Susan's voice broke through Peter's inner dealings and dilemma's. "I think that a well deserved tour is in order, followed by a quick ride before supper."

"Oh yes!" Lucy agreed wholeheartedly, jumping up and down in excitement. "You simply must see the forests and trails we have! They're beautiful!"

Peter let out a large laugh as he looked over at his youngest sister with soft eyes. "One thing at a time Lu," He affectionately called her. "Let's let them get acquainted with Cair Paravel before we go and throw a forest at them."

Susan let a small smile grace her face as well. "Come along Lucy, let's give them a tour of Cair Paravel, then we'll take the horses out and show them the trails." Lucy let out a small crestfallen sigh, before putting her efforts into giving the guests a grand, and very animated tour of Cair Paravel.

"Okay!" Lucy said as she skipped forward, looking back at the group with expecting eyes. "Let's go then! We have a lot to show you. Oh! Wait until you see the garden! It's simply marvelous!" Not at all waiting for her fellow party, she turned and quickly ascended the staircase, before dissapearing from sight into the grand fortress.

"Oh goodness," Susan said, looking up towards her enthusiastic, vanishing sister. "Well, we better hurry. Or else she'll leave us behind." She said as she lead the remaining group up the stairs and started out the tour with a show of the great hall. Peter and Edmund however, remained where they were.

"So," Edmund said as he grinned up at his elder brother. "That wasn't so bad. The two weeks will pass by before you even know it." His only reply was a blank stare that Peter sent his way, before making his way up the stairs, leaving a very put out Edmund behind.

"You try to cheer a fellow up, and this is what you get." Edmund glowered after his brother for a moment, before letting out a sigh and following his siblings into Narnia's capital building.

* * *

The tour lasted exactly two hours and forty-six minutes later. Lucy had insisted on commenting about every vase, sculpture, hall and room they had passed, making the tour seem never ending. All involved were eager to see the Great Hall again.

The tour itself had gone fine. Lord Richard had remained a cheerful presence, asking questions, and smiling at Lucy's excited talk of the castle. Lady Victoria had remained quiet, only speaking when her husband was changing subjects and causing more delay in the tours conclusion. Margret had immediately latched on to Peter's arm when he had reunited with the group, she would giggle at nothing, and Peter found his self-control waver. Susan was walking in the back with Edmund, who was smirking viciously behind Peter's back whenever Margret made a pass. Susan, ever supporting Susan, would only roll her eyes, before talking on Peter's behalf.

Soon the group found themselves preparing for a relaxing ride in one of Narnia's many forests. Supplies were assembled in bags to bring along, and horses were brought out for the riders to ride upon. Lord Richard, and the Lady's Victoria and Margret each were given a steed from the stables, none being of the talking variety. The Pevensies each saddled up their own horses, Philip, being the only true Narnian horse among them.

"All I'm saying Philip is that you've been my stead for four years now. I don't see how that implys I'm calling you old." King Edmund grunted to the animal beneath him. Upon entering the forest, Edmund had started explaining the surroundings, and mentioned the length of time that Philip and himself had been partnered. A heated battle of words then proceeded to the amusement of the Pevensies, and uncomfort of the Duke, and Duchesses.

"It does!" Philip argued back, unconcerned that it was his king who he responded to. "I heard that younger horses were being brought to the stables. I'm being replaced! I know it! You want a younger steed who can run and prance like a foolish brute with four legs! What about experience? What about knowledge and kinship? Doesn't that mean anything anymore?!" An un-lady like snort came from behind the hand of the Valiant Queen, who was trying desperately to smother the fit of giggles that was threatening to overwhelm her. Edmund just rolled his eyes, staring down at the head of his horse in exasperation, more than accustomed to its dramatic speeches. Peter's face held a small smile, while Susan shook her head the antics of her brother and his horse.

"Philip," Edmund tried again to reason, putting as much fondness and comfort in his voice as he could manage without laughing. "I would never replace you. You are my trusted steed. No amateur horse could compete with the accomplishments we've made together. I've riden into battle with you, knowing that I'll survive it because my noble stallion is with me to keep me out of any messes I find myself in."

Philip, for his part, was trying to ignore the glorified words from his master. However, the praise seemed to be too much, and his stubborn remarks ended quickly. "Well, I have gotten you out of quite a few messes, haven't I?" Pride practically bleed from Philips response. Edmund grinned in accomplishment from his perch, patting the horse on the neck for good measure, then procceded to start another conversation. Tactfully avoiding anything that would set the horse off on another rant.

"Well, I must admit, this is quite impressive Peter." Lord Richard stated. For once, he seemed to have nothing to say, looking about in wonder and awe at the beauty of this strange land of Narnia. Peter let out a loud laugh, enjoying the excitement he saw on Richards face.

"Your praise warms my heart, good friend. I'll admit to putting a small bit more care in the presentation of all this, but must say that it doesn't take much to make this place shine. It still to this day amazes me how much natural beauty Narnia possesses." Peter said, looking around himself. The dirt path was flat and smooth, having been compressed into the ground by the hooves of numerous horses in treks before. The tree's practically radiated allurement in their soft green glow. The sun gleaming down upon their leaves, making them brighten and become more apparent. Flowers were scattered across the grass lands, each filled with a luster of self-confidence, knowing they were beautiful and enjoying the onlooking eyes. Dark shadows seized the hollow basins of the trees, and fell across the landscape in perfect reflection of the branches and clusters of leaves they were born from, giving the riders a sense of mystery and misunderstood elegance.

"Yes, Narnia seems to glow with a liveliness that is rare in this world full of war and petty arguments." Richard responded, wistfully continuing in his visual scavendure hunt, for which, Peter could not identify what he was searching out.

Leaving the Duke to his own thought, Peter looked behind him to the remaining party. Edmund was muttering something to Philip, completely satisfied with talking to his friend for the remainder of the ride. Oreius and a few guards walked from paces behind, close enough to come to immediate aid should they be needed, but far enough to be kept out of conversations. Susan, Lucy, and Lady Margret were talking of what sounded like a noble from Calormen. Peter shook his head, but couldn't help but overhear.

"No!" Lady Margret said harshly. "She really did try to learn the trade of the sword. Of course, her father put an end to those thoughts as soon as he heard of them, but can you believe it! A sword! A weapon of blood and destruction in the hands of Lady Anne. It's just appalling!"

"It does seem odd. I didn't think Anne was really the sort who would want to learn about any type of weapon craft." Susan said, a small frown marking her face. She spoke carefully, as to not offend Margret, but she also did not openly agree with the woman who had such a fury for woman who 'stepped out of place'.

"I think it would do Anne some good." Lucy commented from inbetween the two other girls. "I liked Anne, and I think she would be good at the sword. She had such great hand-eye-corodination!" Margret let out a small sound of displeasure.

"Women should not be handling men's weapons as if they were toys." Margret said, her eyebrowed furrowed in disagreement and frustration. "They should be concerning themseves with their futures. Preparing for courting and eventual marriage. Learning how to care for a family and keep a house together." She let out what seemed to be a tired sigh. "I just don't understand Lady Anne anymore. I used to like her quite a bit, but then she got this idea of swords and daggers in her mind, and I can't stand to be around her."

"Come now Margret," Richard interupted, hearing his daughters rant and looking at her with slight disapprovement. "Do not be so liberal in you opinions. Lady Anne is allowed to think what she will, and should she learn the sword I expect you to be gracious and civilized with her." Peter looked between the two, keeping his own opinion to himself as he saw the discussion draw the attention of Edmund and Philip as well.

"But father-" Margret attempted, but a sharp glare from Richard ended it before it could begin to escape her tongue.

"That's enough Margret. I will hear no more on the matter. Lady Anne will do as she pleases, and you will not speak such disdain for a person who does not deserve it." Richard ordered, his voice stern and serious, just waiting for his daughter to rebuke him. Margret would have, her dainty pink lips were open in preparation to challenge her father, if only Edmund had not chosen that moment to notice something to his side.

"Peter!"

At Edmund's cry the High King immediately pulled on his reigns. Drawing his horse beside Philip he looked across the bushes in the direction of Edmund's fronting, eyes narrowing in confusion and caution. He looked back towards the quiet party, and lifted a finger to his lips in a silent command for it to stay that way.

Quietly, Peter swept off his horse, motioning Edmund to do the same. Oreius had advanced to the noble party, and was silently directing the soldiers to guard draw their weapons, ready to protect thier royals and their guests. With a hiss, Rhindon was released from its sheath. Peter took a second to admire the blade, eyeing the inscription and feeling courage build in his chest, encouraging and empowering him.

With one motion of the hand, all warriors swept across the bushes that had partially hidden the spectacle on the other side. Each was shocked, and Peter looked around with a soldiers eye, identifing anything of significance, and sweeping the area for anyone that posed a threat. A few moments later, when everything was checked and nothing of immediate danger presented itself, the group looked to their Kings, waiting for instruction.

Peter couldn't even grasp what he was looking at. All around him, men were unconscious and laying on the ground, and against trees. A battle had taken place here, and these people had lost. The men were scattered across the ground, laying with their faces in the dirt in a pose of ultimate defeat. Weapons prodded from their half embedded state, their blades and sharp ends digging into the soil, beside their equally imobilemasters. Trees were marked with viscious slashes and cut marks, stretching across the bark in violent and mutilated lines.

"What do you think happened here?" Susan's voice asked in all seriousness as her horse walked through the brush. The remaining patry had followed behind, motioned by Oreius that it was safe. Peter turned to look at his siter, who returned his grim expression.

"I can't say." Peter admitted, walking around and eyeing the ground for any clues. With the tip of his boot he managed to turn over one of the bodies. The sight wasn't pretty. Black, blue, and purple made an angry mural on the side of the mans face. Blood smeared its way down from a cut above his brow, tinting his already dirty forehead and cheeks an increadably unattractive color of dark brown and blackish red.

The mans body didn't appear to fare any better. His clothes were ripped apart, pieces of it so shredded that it surrounded the body, unattached to the original all together. The dark maroon color of the body's vital fluid had seeped into the blue clothing, where Peter had no doubt they could find gashes in the flesh, should they just look. The legs seemed not to be spared either. Red lines were drawn across the thighs, were someone had skillfully ran a blade across so it bit into the muscules, falling the man and ending the fight. A quick glance to the arms proved them to be broken and beaten, though Peter hadn't held out hope for them. _'Probably,'_ Peter thought as his eyes glanced across to each of the defeated party. _'Each of them have similar wounds. I doubt this man was singled out for such brutality.'_

"These men are robbers." Edmunds quiet voice practically whispered from across the small field. He was kneeling down and lifted a dangling necklace for all to see. "Were robbers." He corrected himself. "My guess, is that the bit off more then they could chew with someone. Someone who didn't believe in mercy."

"This is horrible." Lucy said from atop her horse, looking around the sight with tears welling up in her eyes. '_Only a healer.'_Peter thought with a saddened heart. Lucy would be affected by such a sight, being the kind-natured person she was. She had been given the cordinal filled with the juice of the fireflower, allowing her the ability to heal almost any injury. A girl, so bent on saving lives, would not be able to undestand the loss of life such as this. He himself felt pity for these men. Even robbers, didn't deserve to be butchered like this.

"Is it safe for us to be here?" Lady Margret asked, nervously looking from side to side. "What if the person who did this comes back?"

"I doubt they would come back to this exact place." Oreius commented, motioning his soldiers to start scouting the area. "Rarely does anyone return to the sight of such a beating."

"We need to find who did this." Level-headed Edmund said as he looked towards his brother. "Whoever it is could be dangerous to the surrounding Narnians." Peter nodded, agreeing with his brother as he whistled for his horse. It came to his side, and he fluintly shifted into the saddle. At the same moment, Edmund swung himself upon Philip, who was anxiously stepping form hoove to hoove in preparation.

"My Kings," Oreius said, stepping up to draw their attention. "It seems whoever did this walked away. The trail is right over here." He said as he walked towards the edge of the clearing, he turned and patiently waited for his leiges.

"Right," Peter said, turning towards his sisters. "You two stay here with Lady Victoria and Lady Margret. We'll leave soldiers to protect you, but Susan I want you to take out your bow. Be prepared for anything, even though it's unlikely for the perpitrator to return. Just please, do not be caught unaware." Peter asked, speaking softly as he looked on worriedly at his siblings. He didn't like leaving them behind like this, but it was the best chance they had at catching whoever did this. Recieving a nod of understanding from Susan, and a quick 'good-luck' from Lucy, he turned towards Lord Richard, who was sitting on his horse, looking as serious as Peter had ever seen him.

"I'm coming with." Richard said, his tone in no mood for question. Peter nodded in agreement, knowing that Richard was a swordsman and a gentleman. Such an act of cruelty as this would not be tolerated in his eyes.

"Oh my goodness," Lady Margret muttered as she took another glance around. "Who could have done this?"

"We're about to find out." Peter muttered, before digging his heals in the side of his horse, and driving it through the bushes after the trail of whoever was responsible.

It didn't take long for the small hunting party to realize they were catching up. First off, the person was walking where they were riding on speedy horses(or were part horse). It would be impossible for whoever they were chasing to outrun them. But despite that fact, Peter gave no option for error. Who ever managed to do that to a group of robbers, known for toughness and unfair play, was not to be chanced with. Further more, even though the robbers were clearly outmatched, it seemed as if this person did not hold back in the least. And that, angered Peter to no end.

_'No mercy was given to those people. Robbers or not, to be so much stronger then someone, and just destroy them like that. It's disgusting.' _Peter thought as he made his way through the forest. Edmund was riding right beside him, and Oreius and the other soldiers taking the flank.

"We're catching up." Edmund clearly said so all could hear. Peter nodded in confirmation. The wind produced by the speeds at which they traveled pushing and tugging at his blonde locks. Few precious minutes were traveled in complete silence, only the grunting horses and clap of a few dozen hooves broke the quietness that should have fallen across the Kings and their company. The trees blurred by at an increadable pace. Peter could not even take a quick enough glance to identify were one tree ended, and another began. They melded together as the party raced on, each determined to find the one they were chasing after.

In a rush, the group exited out of a group of bushes, sliding to a stop as they all gazed upon a figure that stood unmoving infront of them.

A cloaked figure was standing motionless in front of them. Covered by the light blue velvety cloth, the figure's form was completely shrouded as they stood in the shadows of a tree, calmly waiting for someone to make a move. It seemed as though in their rush, the group had been so focused on the capture, they did not think to hide their presence in the least.

Peter raised his hand as Edmund was about to press Philip forward. The motion stopped Edmund, who looked back at Peter with inquisitive eyes. But he did not comment. Returning his gaze to the figure who still had not moved, in neither an attempt at escape, or of recognition of the sudden intrusion, Peter felt his anger waver slightly in the direction of curiousity.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, his tone harsh and every bit the demanding king he could be.

The cloaked being toked it's head, the hood that covered the face tilting slightly to the side. "Who am I?" It questioned back, and Peter was shocked to find it was the voice of a woman.

It was soft and whimsical. Light and seemed to float around the air in a silken serenade. It twisted and twirled in the space between itself and its intruders, practically laughing with a humor not understood by any who heard it. Yet at the same time, it was harsh and serious. It mocked the world and those in it, any who did not understand its reasoning. There was an underlying threat in the voice, speaking volumes about its ability to intimidate and frighten. The voice had seen years of successful sarcasm that held many opponents at bay with a swish of the tongue. A seldom held talent that was envied by many.

And Peter couldn't understand how among all this, it sounded down right enchanting.

"I am someone who needs not be mentioned except for in shadowed places." The voice continued, still stringing along the cautious group to her liking. "And who, may I ask are you?"

Peter glared at the speakers back, disliking the calmness the voice reflected in response. The woman did not seem to care that a group of heavily armed men and Narnians had just burst from behind her, demanding her identity in(what in any other situation would seem) a very forbearing and brash way. "I am High King Peter. Emperor of the Lone Islands and Lord of Cair Paravel. I demand that you turn and face us. We have questions to ask, and you will answer them." Peter demanded, eyes locked on the figure in front of him, not allowing it to make any movements without his notice.

The figures back had stiffened, Peter was sure of this. It had been quick, and had Peter not been so focused he would have missed it. The action was well hidden within the confines of the blur cloak, but to Peter, the small ruffle that chained its way across the figures back had been apparent enough for him to catch it. The minute his words had reached her, the woman had tensed, whether in preparation, or nervousness he did not know, but it did not relax his own nerves any. Something he had said created a rise out of this woman, he just didn't know what kind, and that could often be deadly.

"King?" The womans voice sounded again, dry and almost bitter. At Peters side, both Edmund and Oreius became even more uneasy then before. Something about the way she had spoken the word, with such a sharp and sneering undertone, brought both of them to their nerves ends. The worry they felt towards Peter intensified, and each readied themselves to rush forward and protect the High King from any such attack.

"Well then," The woman stated after a short pause. "Who am I to deny a _king_ such a request?" The words were spoken softly, almost as an inside joke among herself, spoken knowing that those around her would not understand.

In one dramatically slow motion, the figures arms were brought forward, making exagurated movement towards her head, and the hood that veiled her appearance. Grasping the cloth between gloved hands, the cowl was slid backwards, towards its resting place at the base of her neck. In one quick jerk, the figures body had twisted, so that she was staring directly at the party before her.

Inexplicably, the first thing her eyes met were those of the High Kings.

The bright jade color of her eyes struck Peter full force. And with eyes narrowed more in confusinon then discretion, he managed out a simple question.

"Who are you?"

* * *

**Ramblings of an Author(Part 2):** Part 1 is official complete! I'll admit to having a bit of difficulty in the middle. I had a bit of writers block, and couldn't get more then a few sentances at a time. And it was really starting to annoy me! There's nothing I hate more then being stuck in the middle of a story, when you have the rest completely planned out. It's down right vexing!

Regrettably, I'm pretty sure I failed in conveying Peters feelings about Margret across. I was hoping for a whole soliloquy from Peter about it, but couldn't manage more then a few sentences. I didn't develop Margret enough for such an intense understanding about her. Though I can't bring myself to care since she's a pretty unimportant character who doesn't stay around longer than a few parts. Her only purpose was to start Peter's inner discussion about what type of relationship he would want with a woman. So she's played her part, and soon I will not have to worry about her.

P.S. I really hope I didn't make her too transparent. Hopefully, I gave her at least a little bit of depth, and if I didn't, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to inclued a Mary Sue in this! I tried my best to give her a bit of a brain, and not seem too clear cut with her being a perfect little doll with no thoughts.

Other than all this, I'm pretty satisfied with the part. The ending, I found, was my favorite thing to write out, I got to write my first bit with my o.c., and I must admit to finding her more amazing in text then I had first thought she'd be. I can't wait to get her into the story more and some interaction with Peter. I'm looking forward to it!

I would just like to quickly thank you for reading, and say that some reviews would be very much appreciated. The number **zero** is a bit overhwelming when I look at it. It mocks me!


	3. Forwarnings Come In Many Ways

**Disclaimer:**Forgot to include it in the last part, but as with everyone else(only retold in more accurate words) I do not get heaps of money from any of the Narnia franchise, books, movies, or little Peter action figures. My originality goes only as far as the unrecognizable characters, everything else is Lewis's by right and definition. Regretfully, he beat me by about fifty years.

Though admittedly, I'm not sure who to credit the movies to anymore, since you know, Disney's has given up on the rights to it. The fools.

* * *

On Our Final Night

By Halogirl3000

"Who are you?"

Peter's voice softly traveled the distance between himself and the mysterious stranger. It took only one simple gaze for him to realize how unique the woman was. A strange sense of wariness ran across his body, giving him no other option besides looking at her in a sense of wonder.

The woman truly looked magnificent. Her emerald eyes gleamed beneath thin, yet strong eyebrows, curved in such a way to emit a permanent air of certainty. Ivory tresses cascaded down her shoulders, ending in a loose tangle of strands that swayed with even the smallest of motions. Layered bangs were pushed aside, letting the full effect of her stare run rampant without hindrance. The suns rays dared caress the soft skin the woman possessed, its milky tone served to deepen her eyes, pushing them to the brink of their vividness. The light seemed to be absorbed within her, giving off a luminous glow across her cheeks that only emphasized her noble features even more. Strong and defiant cheekbones rounded out her face, making an incredible adaptation of a heart beneath her clear, jaded(in more ways then one) gaze.

A grin spread across her pale, blush colored lips. "You've already asked that. And the answer has not changed in the two minutes since then."

"Such insolence. I have given you my name, yet you still refuse to be the least bit helpful, in response." Peter replied, eyes narrowing slightly. None had dared to talk to him in such disrespect. At least not since the golden crown had been placed upon his head.

"A name alone gives few rights to consideration. No matter what that name may be." The woman answered back, her tone light and held the full knowledge of her boldness.

The two shared a pause in dialogue, each unaccustomed to being questioned. They stared each other down, searching gazes eyeing each other with a sense of examination in the air. Questions fleeted across their minds in a rush of curiosity, and perplexing inquiry. Whys? How's? And who's? being reflected in their eyes, seeking desperately for answers that would only come from the one who stared from across the way. The only problem was the stubbornness that held the answers back.

Edmund watched from beside his brother, noting the change in atmosphere instantly. He noticed his brothers growing curiosity, noticed the way Peter's brow lowered and scrunched in confusion. He saw the original purpose of finding this woman slip from the High Kings mind, replaced by the unfamiliar way this woman responded to him. It had been a few years since any had been so blatantly coarse with any of the Pevensie's before knowing them. Yes, the beavers often scolded and mothered the four in a similar fashion, but they were valued friends. The beavers had helped keep the Pevensie's safe upon their first adventure(no where near the last) in Narnia. They had the rights to be so open-lipped of the Pevensie's. This woman did not.

A blink of captured sunlight drew Edmunds attention away from his inner consultations. Warily, he let his eyes trail down her cloak, and scrutinized the strange appearance beneath. Her body was easily defined, even if the cloak had not been thrown over her shoulders, her form was too distinguishable to hide beneath the piece of cloth. Toned arms ran elegantly down her sides, creamy skin peaking out of the sleeveless, black turtle-neck like chemise she wore. A golden plate covered beneath her collarbone, carved with intricate designs whose meanings were lost to time centuries ago. Dark crimson cloth spread out from beneath that, wrapping its way down her frame to her knees where it was shortened on the sides, allowing her muscled legs to escape the confines of the fabric at mid thigh. A thick white sash was pulled across her thin waist, emphasizing the curve of her breasts, and arch of her hips. A single black cloth hung down from below the belt, etched with fine gold a symbol from a long forgotten age, yet time was not able to take away the pride that seemed to emanate from the ancient emblem. Red leather was strapped across her feet, running over the black stockings that ran up to just below her knees. The makeshift boots extended to mid shin, where they wound tightly by dark onyx leather strips that kept them from slipping. Golden arm bands wrapped around her forearms, delicately entwined with plates of silver on each arm. It encased a flow of the same red fabric that most of the outfit was made off, letting it open up and freely fall down her arms at the elbow. Black mitts were pulled across the limbs, escaping below the trails of crimson and ending on the back of her hand, were large orbs of an emerald mineral were winking in the sunlight. A circet layed across her forehead, holding a large emerald green orb similar to the others found on her body. A small, red teardrop lowered itself between her eyes from the diadem.

The sunlight that appeared seemed to have be brought forth by the strange array of instruments that noiselessly rested against the woman's lower midrift. A thick golden cord wrapped itself around her slim waist, connecting numerous weapon sheaths to her body. Two small dark brown leather casings rested on opposite hips, holding what seemed like long, tri-bladed daggers(sais). Another sheath held a sword, prodding from its place from the worn, yet sturdy cover. Deep green reflected off another crystal orb, one that layed against her front hip. It was noticably larger than any of the others, easily fitting in the palm of a larger hand in pressed comfort. A strange sense of power radiated from the orb, with such an aura that required extreme caution on behave of the user.

"I am King Edmund." Edmund said, pushing Philip forward a few steps. The woman's attention snapped to him at a dizzying speed, her eyes flicking over to him the moment he started to talk, leaving any thoughts at mid cognition for further analyzes later.

"This is Oreius," Edmund continued on, motioning to Oreius who menacingly glared from below his battle helmet. "General of Narnia's army, and this is Lord Richard, of Archenland. Will you still refuse us your name, even though we have shared our own?" He finished, after taking a quick glance towards the Duke, who looked on silently and let the kings continue on with their interrogation. This was their land after all, and they were responsible for its protection. He was only there to offer a bit of help if it was needed.

"You freely offered your names with no prompt from me. I see little reason to return it with my own." Was her answer, unyielding it its delivery. It was clear that this woman would not give away anything. But that was fine with Edmund, her name wasn't what they were after anyway.

"Then perhaps a different question would be of better accord. Not long ago this party came across a group of bandits. They were practically destroyed by the time we found them. We've come in search of the perpetrator. Would you happen to know of who did this?" Edmund asked, steeling his tone to allow no escape to the woman. She would answer, or else she would be at the point of a blade. He made that clearer with a hand lowering to the blade at his side. She wouldn't have a choice.

The woman's eyes tracked the trail of Edmundshand, watching it lower itself to the swords hilt, yet gave no signs of fear or anxiety at the open display of authority. She was not the type to be bullied into anything, as these people were about to find out.

Peter had been attentive of his brothers actions. The mention of the thieves that had influenced this hunt brought his mind back to topic, and he paid close attention to the woman, watching for any indication of attack. But none came. The woman looked back with calm indifference. The question raising no surprise or any amount of concern. To her, it seemed to just be a fact, an unimportant one at that.

"I might."

It was a quick answer, one that confirmed all their suspicions. And it was perhaps that reason, that made Peter's blood come to a boil.

"You might?" He asked, his earlier anger almost unleashed on the woman. "Either you do, or you don't. There is no in between. Do you know who did that to them?"

"_Yes._" Eyes rolled along with her response. It was in that confirmation, that simple three letter word, that Peter truly lost his self control. The woman's posture relayed her sentiments of those who she had brutally attacked. She didn't care. It was all insignificant to her.

"You say it as if the death of those men is trivial!" Peter growled out to her, his tone dark and critical. Green eyes looked upon the Magnificent King as he glared harshly in her direction. A small frown pulled at her lips, finding interest in how unorthodox this response was from her perspective. A commander such as this, upset by the death of scum like those thieves. She couldn't quite understand it.

"Was I to exhibit them mercy, when they would have shown me none?" She questioned back. Her stance relaxed slightly, turning towards the king with what seemed like honest inventiveness. "They would not have held back on my account of being outnumbered."

"It appeared as if numbers didn't matter in the first place. Your skills were obviously superior to theirs. The fact that it was one against many did not justify your use of deadly force. You obliterated them, when they had no chance to survive." Peter responded, his blue eyes glaring harshly at her.

The woman, for her part, did not seemed fazed. Her eyebrow arched in response to his retort, skeptic of his words. "They attacked me. It was self-defense that I brought forth my weapons for protection. I owed them no restraint when they so were the ones who insisted upon a brawl."

"None lethal force was within your capabilities. That is what makes this an issue. Yes, it was wicked of them to seek a fight for your possessions, but you are no better when you did not spare their lives." Peter said, anger relaying in his words. This woman was pushing him to the edge of his self-restraint. He could not, for the life of him, understand her obvious uncaring attitude towards what she had done. She clearly thought it was within her moral rights to practically destroy those who went against her. It angered Peter in a way he had not felt since his battle with the White Witch. The fury that traveled in his veins was only rivaled by the pain and horror at watching Edmund fall to Jadis' broken wand. Subconsciously, he took a glance at his brother, and was startled to meet his brothers dark brown eyes, looking intently into his own.

The worry that Edmund was showing was only apparent to someone who knew him as well as Peter did. Instantly, he realized that his unusual behavior, his quickness to show his rage, would cause concern within his brother. Edmund, bless his soul, understood Peter's enmity at the current situation. Peter was a knight of Narnia, his honor code was among one of his most treasured possessions. Any assault on that would be met with resistance and a temper to rival a Telmarine.

Sending an encouraging smile towards his sibling for his compassion, Peter drew his attention back to the problem at hand. Turing his eyes to the snowy haired maiden, he was surprised to see her glaring darkly his way. Her green eyes looked ablaze in the shadows that her bangs created, sending shivers throughout Peters body at the rare display of unrepressed animosity that was coming from her form in intimidating waves. Peter was alarmed at how powerful her glare truly was, its strength and unmistakable severe-ness practically throwing him from his horse. He sensed rather then heard Oreius tense beside him, along with Edmund's gasp of surprise.

"You dare compare me to those lowlifes?" The woman's voice lowered in disbelief at the absurdness of the comment thrown at her.

"I don't see why not." Peter treaded cautiously. It was perhaps the first time since they first stumbled across the woman that he took her for the serious threat she appeared to be. "They did not _restrain_ themselves from trying to steal your things. And you killed them in response."

Silence ensued from his comments. The woman's glare lightened slightly, now looking upon the High King with distrust, and a tinge of something else. Just pure annoyance, Peter finally deduced, right before she spoke.

"I didn't kill anyone." She murmured, her eyebrow returning to its high, assessing position above her optic. Peter's first though was a very abnormal one. For a moment he didn't care about what she had to say, his only concern was that in that single motion, she completely mocked him. One that seemed to accomplish the impossible, and beat anything Edmund had ever jeered before.

Luckily, reality crashed into him a moment after.

"You what?" Peter asked, distrust hanging upon every word. The woman's eyes circled themselves in irritation, and she let out a sigh of impatience as she rolled her neck in what seemed to be a gesture of agitation.

"Not a single one of those men are dead." The woman admitted, letting her body lax itself from the constant strain of preparing for a battle. The visible muscles of her legs and arms lightened as the released the tension that they had held since the conversations had begun. Peter couldn't help but realize that the lack of straining made her look much less threatening.

"But all you said before, you admitted to attacking them. And with the state they were in, they couldn't have survived." Edmund mentioned from atop his horse, looking over to the woman with untrusting eyes, and a hint of apprehension at the thought of accusing her wrongfully.

"No, I admitted to soundly thrashing them. Never did I say I had killed them. I have no doubt that they appeared to have been brutally murdered, I did not hold back on account to them being a group of weaklings. Those people escaped death by my hand, however just barely that was." The woman said, a slight grin on her face as she watched the faces of the people in front of her.

The High King, she mused, looked no better in temperament then before. She reasoned that it was the fact that she left them barely alive, and didn't seem to mind admitting to it. He seemed self-righteous like that. The younger King, the one with dark hair, appeared to be deep in thought, a hand cupping his chin as he looked down at the ground with a frown pulling across his features, brow contorted together in all seriousness.

"Why did you not explain this before? You lead us to believe that you had killed them." It was the first thing the Duke had said to the woman, and she looked at him in surprise as she had almost forgotten his presence.

"I didn't feel the need to. It was your mistake, not mine." She answered simply.

Peter let out a breath of irritation at the woman. "You really are no help with anything. None of this changes the fact that you almost killed those men."

"Your concern with those people is touching, but quite futile. You have bigger problems to deal with than the beating of one group of petty thieves, _King._" Was the woman's reply, her infamous smirk pulling at her lips. Peter already hated it.

"And what does that mean?" Oreuis' haunting voice said from the side. The conversation had just changed into a threat against either Narnia or its rulers. Territory that Oreius had an critical position in. The soldiers behind him shuffled in anxiety, each realizing that talk had taken a turn for the worst.

"It means just what I said. Narnia's time of peace is over. It's about to become a battle field." The woman spoke. An ominous feeling entered the air, pressing down upon the occupants with an unforgiving chill.

"I'll give you a warning, Kings," Though the word lacked the distain she had added to it beforehand, it still relayed an almost challenging timbre. "You had best be prepared for a battle. This land is in danger, and without proper guidance it will fall to an evil that will tear Narnia apart. You must be ready." The woman's voice dwindled out to nothing as she gave one last look to the receivers of her speech, each of whom were unprepared for such grievous news being borne before them.

With a quick nod, assuring herself that that was all they needed to know, she turned, fully prepared to walk away.

"Stop!" Peter's voice rang out to the strange woman, who paused, but merely turned her head around in compliance.

Peter let out a rattled breath, fully caught unaware by this calamitous prediction. "You will come with us to Cair Paravel, where we will discuss this further." He sent his brother a small nod, telling the group to prepare to leave.

"I think not." The woman's voice sounded through the bustle of noise that was set in motion by Peter's orders. This caused hesitation among the ranks, only Peter, Edmund, Oreius and Richard catching the clear defiance her tone held.

"That is an order from your King." Oreuis said, taking a quick step forward, readying himself for a chase.

A grin of pure satisfaction crossed her face, making her eyes gleam brightly in a way that could only be described as mischievous. The amount of glee she was attempting to quell only made it seem as though she had been repressing the retort back from the beginning.

"He is not my king."

The small moment of surprise resulted, after all, no one was foolish enough to say that to **any** king. It was quickly filled with the shouts of the soldiers, who were all yelling angrily in response.

A sharp cry from the sides ended all talk, sending each head to the left as the screech was so sudden and shrill it caught the attention of all with ears. Perched on a lower tree branch was a large falcon. Its black feathers smoothly flowing down it's back, and overlapping its hunched wings. Its white breast was speckled with ebony blemishes, shining brightly in what miniscule sunlight the surrounding trees could not keep out. Dark eyes were rimmed in bright yellow, making its stare seem unwavering. Its sharp beck was lined in the same bright color, fading quickly into black pincers that would frighten any small animal(and quite a few big ones!). Thorn like talons prodded from its claws, biting into the bark of the unlucky branch it landed upon.

A few moments passed in silence, before it let out another piercing call, then began stretching its impressive wings, and taking flight.

A quick curse brought recognition to all as they heard the frustration in their High Kings voice. All looked at the place where the woman had been. All, found it dishearten empty.

"She got away." Edmund muttered, taking a quick glance around, dejectedly hoping for a small trail to follow. His sharp eyes picked up nothing as he came to the realization that she did not want to be found, and they were stuck with nothing.

"Let's head back to the girls." Peter said, his tone unquestioning and stern. Turing his horse quickly, he motioned for all to follow, and the group padded silently back from whence they came.

It took noticeable longer to return. The group was discouraged by the prophecy the woman had written out in front of them, along with the fact that they could not question her further. The brisk pace they had set before had been replaced with a quick walk at best.

After some minutes, the group entered the field they had left their fellow companions in, noticing the amount of activity quickly.

"What's going on here?" Peter asked as he swung himself off his horse. Edmund followed suit as he lowered himself from Philips back, watching the seemingly maddening scene that unfolded before him.

Lucy, Susan, and Duchesses Victoria and Margret(who was going much slower than anyone else) were rushing around, barking out orders to unsuspecting soldiers, who were in a relay of motion, running from one lady to another. On the ground each of the wounded bandits lay on the group, but not in complete comfort as they each were tried at the hands and feet.

Susan looked up at her brother bewildered voice. Taking a quick glance around, she let out a wince as she realized how this would look.

"They're not dead!" Lucy cried out before her sister could say anything, her attention not changing from the man she was currently aiding.

Peter and Edmund sent each other inconspicuous glances, feeling the small statement left many unanswered questions. Their arrival caused a interval in all the disarray, the soldiers letting out sighs of relief-who knew the Queens were so bossy-, and the lady's that were left waiting released a small breath of displeasure at being interrupted so suddenly.

"Did you find who did this?" Susan asked as she walked towards her brother, noting with confusion the grim expressions that befell their faces. Lucy, catching on to the subject, left the injured man, and came closer.

Peter sighed, running a hand through his golden locks as Edmund just turned his eyes away from them. "Yeah," Peter confessed. "We found them."

Lady Victoria, and her daughter had made their way over as well, standing next to Richard who was looking at the Pevensies in empathy. The future was looking challenging for the young rulers.

"And?" Lucy pushed, turning her light brown eyes on her brothers, who fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

"And we lost them." Edmund admitted, wincing as he saw Susan's eyes darken.

"What happened?" Susan's low voice questioned, looking over her brother in concern as she eyed them for injuries.

"Nothing, much." Peter said, returning to his role as king, fully prepared to reveal what had transpired. But not now. "We can talk about this at Cair Paravel, for now, what is all this?" Peter threw out a hand, letting it cross in front of him, indicating to the make-shift medical field.

Lucy let out a small grin of embarrassment. "Not long after you left, one of the men let out a groan. We were surprised at first, but then noticed he was still alive. We checked the other men, and found that all of them were just unconscious. We've been trying to keep them comfortable, but we were still treating them when you came back."

Peter let his head tilt to the side in as he noticed a strange anomaly about Lucy's description, and stole a glance towards his brother to see if he too felt the same. Meeting Edmunds eyes, he let an eyebrow raise in confusion.

"Comfortable," Edmund spoke the word as casually as he turned his eyes to his sisters, then fluctuated between them and the injured thieves, before facing his family with a bright grin. "Well, congratulations, dear sisters. I'm sure they are very comfortable in their rope handcuffs!"

Both Lucy and Susan blushed in slight humiliation. "They were thieves!" Susan defended. "The soldiers wouldn't let us near them without some certainty that they wouldn't do anything if they woke up!"

Both Peter and Edmund shared a laugh at Susan's indignant reply, before coughing awkwardly into their hands at the chilling look she responded with. The good humor was short lived, however, as Peter took another calculating glance around the field, then in the direction they came from. A frown marred his lips, one up the utmost concentration.

"She was telling the truth, then." Edmund said, looking at the wounded men in consideration. Peter nodded to the side, thinking the same thing.

"Who was telling the truth?" Susan asked laying a hand on her brothers shoulder, noticing their worried glances.

"The one who did this. She told us that she hadn't killed anyone, only 'thrashed them', as she put it. She admitted to fighting them, said they were trying to rob her and she fought back in self-defense." Edmund said, letting his sisters know a small bit of the earlier discussion.

"This is not self-defense." Peter muttered, glaring at the ground, refusing to release the woman of guilt.

"Wait," Lucy interrupted. "You said she. A woman did this?" Peter affirmed the question with a quick nod.

"How barbaric!" Lady Margret said from beside her father, who patted his daughters shoulder in reassurance. She looked upon the field, as if just noticing the blood and fierceness the field projected for the first time. Peter shook his head at the incredulity of it all.

"Lord Richard, I would like to apologize for this. It isn't what was intended for our outing." Peter said, turning towards the Duke with remorseful eyes.

"Not to worry," Richard assured back. "I'm sure your not any happier with the happenings of today either."

Peter let a small smile of thanks cross his face, grateful that the Duke was not quick to complain, and had better sense then to do so at the moment. "All the same, I'm sorry the day couldn't have gone better."

Richard waved the words away. "It was beyond your control."

"Lord Richard," Edmund said, looking to the Duke in all seriousness. "It pains me to say this, but maybe your stay in Narnia should be cut short." In normal circumstances, this would never be suggested by any of the Pevensies. To reject a guest is rights to start a war against some nations. Only the fact that the Richards family was a close friend, and from Archenland, Narnia's strongest ally, let Edmund bring up the idea without fear of seeming rude.

Peter, nodded in agreement. "He's right. We're not sure if Narnia is safe at the moment. For your protection, it might be best." Along with Peter's point of protecting the Duke's family, there was another speculation on his part. If Narnia was indeed heading for war, Peter was only too certain that in his honor bound life, Richard would offer his assistance in whatever means he could. Regardless of the danger it would entice upon himself, Richard would help out in whatever way possible. Peter refused to get his friend in Narnia's affairs. Richard had a family to take care of, and if Peter was too busy to be sure of Richards protection he could very well die. No, Peter would not allow such guilt and sorrow to be felt by himself or anyone else. Richard himself, and his family would be safer outside of Narnia's borders. Where this vague war would not spread. Or so Peter hoped.

"Understood," Richard said, motioning his family to return to their horses. "We'll leave tomorrow morning. For the moment, I believe this has been quite the exciting day for my family, and ask your forgiveness if we take our leave."

"Sounds like a good idea." Peter said in all honesty. Looking over to his own family, his siblings all smiled slightly in encouragement. "We'll return to the castle too."

In the next few moments orders were issued out to a few soldiers, telling them to stay put with the group of bandits, while the others returned to Cair Paravel. More soldiers would be issued out to come back and round up all the thieves to be deported from Narnia sometime tomorrow. A messenger was sent to the port, telling them of the unexpected passengers that a ship would be carrying to Archenland in the morning.

The Pevensie's all got upon their horses, and started the long trek back to their beloved home. Though the trip took a better half of the hour, it passed fast as all were engaged in their own thoughts.

* * *

"Wait!" Susan's voice sounded throughout the throne room, as she tried to get a grasp on what her brothers were telling her. "I don't understand. What battle was she talking about?"

The Pevensie's had resigned themselves into Cair Paravel's hall of Four Thrones not a few moments after arriving. After sending the Archenland nobility to their rooms, and calling Mr. Tumnus and Orieus to the room, they had closed the door, ready to discuss what had transpired through the day.

A thick tension filled the room. All inhabitants feeling it press against their lungs as the need to squirm uncomfortably increased with each passing moment. The occupants of the room were scattered against its walls and small stairs. Susan and Lucy sat upon the steps, looking around with confusion as they attempted to put together the dots of their siblings story. Edmund leaned casually against one of the many pillars had reached grandly to the ceiling, its cool, marble surface offering a small comfort to him as he pressed the back of his head into it in a piqued gesture. Orieus was pacing from one side of the hall to another. He listened quietly to his lieges story, referencing his own knowledge when they would pause in a tired lapse. Mr. Tumnus had been called by Lucy, and stood between all the others, asking questions when clarification was required.

It had been this way for an hour and a half.

Peter exhaled a breath of frustration, as he leaned back in his royal chair, looking upon his siblings and trusted advisers with an almost helpless stare. "I don't know Susan." Peter said, his voice tired as he turned to look out one of the large windows in the room. "She didn't give us a whole lot of details before she took off. She just said we needed to be ready."

Susan moaned in disappointment, relaying the feelings that they all felt. This was a tricky situation, and their simply wasn't enough information to make a well informed decision.

"Maybe the robbers-" Lucy suggested, a hopeful tone to her sweet voice. Edmund shook his head in renouncement. He pushed his body away from the column, the exhausted limbs falling limb at his sides as he walked closer to the group.

"The ones who woke on the way here were of no help." Edmund declared. A few of the thieves had regained consciousness along the way back to the castle. The soldiers had a nasty surprise when a few of them suddenly bolted from the small wagon that had been used for their transportation. The small hunt that resulted was easily won by the soldiers. The thieves were hardly well enough to outmatch a few cheetahs, or even hide from the hounds, and were easily captured again.

"They admitted to trying to steal from our mysterious suspect. At first they said they didn't know it was a woman. But after a few of them got a good look at her, they surrounded her and ordered her to hand over her things. We're not quite sure about the next few minutes. A couple of the men had different stories, but the common factor in all of them is that they got trounced." Edmund continued, telling them the story they had managed to pry from the men, before locking the foul-mouthed men in the cellars for the night. They would be sent to port later tomorrow to be taken from Narnia's borders.

"Different stories?" Tumnus asked, shuffling slightly to ease the pressure on his hooves. Peter, Susan and Lucy looked towards the Just King, their eyes asking similar questions. Oreius, merely glanced at the group from the sides of his eyes, patiently awaiting for the King to continue.

Edmund lightly scratched his cheek, debating how to word his answer. "A few of them undoubtedly exaggerated. They claimed that they managed to land some crippling hits on the woman, probably to save their precious pride from the reality of being so beaten by one woman, before she got in a lucky shot and outdid them. But then others said that they couldn't land a hit. She seemed to be too fast for them, and hit them to with a strong enough attack to overwhelm them in one strike. We did figure out from the strikes that the thieves had on their persons, that she was extremely accurate. Each hit was placed with the intention of beating them swiftly and with as little brute strength as possible."

Susan let out a huff of annoyance. "So we're back where we started. With nothing!"

Oreius shook his head in disagreement. "That is not quite true, my Queen. We know that this woman has the skill required to fall an opponent with such accurate hits. Obviously she favors vulnerable points, rather then simply overpowering her adversary." Oreius comment, looking from one ruler to another, recognizing the understanding that reflected back. "That is a very formidable foe, one who can win with a single strike. Caution and preparation is one of the strongest protection needed against such a challenge."

Silence reined through the hall, all thoughts upon how to anticipate an adversary they knew nothing about.

Peter leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped in front of his face as he gazed at the smooth, reflective surface of the floor. He stared into his reflection, seeing it glare back with an intensity he seldom allowed himself to display in front to his family. Alert, yet fully entrapped into his thoughts, he closed his eyes in puzzlement.

"A dangerous foe appears with news of a perilous battle, and we have no way of knowing what intentions our enemies have." Peter recited to himself. His siblings looked at him, concern already overlapping their demeanor as they started to realize the foreboding peril that loomed ahead.

"No. Not a dangerous foe, a powerful ally." A golden radiance seemed to spark the air as all motion and deliberation(however internally it may have been) ceased. The voice commanded all attention as every being in the vicinity looked up towards the recently opened doors of the hall. "Gale Winters, will be valuable ally to Narnia in the strife that is fast approaching."

Each of the Pevensie's waited for a moment, still absorbed in the brilliance of the newcomer, before shouting cries of joy at the beings return.

"Aslan!"

* * *

**Ramblings of an Author: **Finally! Part two is finished! I think this may be the fastest update I've ever done. The sad part is that it still took me about a month to get it finished and ready to publish onto the net. But I refuse to dwell on that fact. I prefur to take my self-invented pride, and leave any self-pity for tomorrow. Just one of the(few) benefits of my procrastination!

Well, for the most part I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though no where near as relieved as I am at no longer have to refer to Gale as 'the woman'. I was running out of idea's at how to make that non-repetitive, and it was really starting to nag at my patience. I was however worried that I wouldn't get the interaction between Peter and my o.c. as I had planned it, but found I was happily surprised with how it all went. My o.c. was an irritating prat, and Peter was only hanging on by a thread! Just kidding, but it was my intention to make the beginning for the two a bit shaky. I really was hoping to make the difference in their opinions obvious, because really, they end up as extremely different characters, each with their own faults and strong points. It becomes a very important factor throughout the rest of the story. Things only get more interesting from here on out!

On an off topic discussion, I have recently just finished my first standardized test. The dreaded ACT! It officially ruined my Saturday, and I despised every minute of it. It is torture, pure and simple. The only part that wasn't half bad was the writing portion of the test. I happily admit to being my good old sarcastic self for that part. Hopefully that doesn't dock me too many points, though I was quite annoyed by that point, and can't remember all that I wrote out. All I remember is the feeling of my brain slowly dying while I stumbled my way through the science part, which somehow ended up being worse then the math portion. And I don't know how that happened, since I usually like science, and have always loathed math with a passion. Just goes to show how pointless and totally absurd the ACT really is!

I would like to thank dancingqueensillystring, unicorn-skydancer08, Vanillastar, crazyelf22, XoptimisticxpessimistX, andkriter026, for being the first six to write reviews for my story. You guys really helped with this part, and I really appreciate all the support you have shown. I'm happy you liked the story, and I hope that in the future I can keep it worth your attention. Thank you so very much!

Just a note, on my homepage is a link to a picture of Gale's appearance. It'll be under the **On Our Final Night**, section of my homepage. Please check it out since I'm sure my description was confusing. It includes the clothes as well. Just imagine in the blades!

Thanks for reading! Feel free to review or message! A writers life is lonely without it!


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